I Am More Than My Weight
A story of becoming me
“It looks like there’s a lot more of you than there used to be.”
It’s what my grandmother said one time when she was visiting before I’d even opened the door to let her in. The door was a wrought iron storm door that you could remove the top half of glass during the summer to allow the breeze to blow through the house. This meant one could converse with someone on the other side of the door without opening it. Usually a great security measure. Unless of course, someone is looking to hurt you with words than by force.
I can remember many conversations with various family members about weight. Someone was always on a diet, someone was always talking about someone else’s weight. One time my grandmother told me how she lost some weight by only eating leftover Halloween candy.
This constant discussion on weight and being fat affected me and my sister in differing ways. I would eat my emotions, gaining weight pretty significantly, while my sister would eat so slow that she would become full before half her plate was cleared. I only recently had a conversation with her and learned that she had issues with her weight too. All along I thought she was the sporty athletic type and I was not, so that’s why I weighed probably 200 pounds or more when I graduated high school. On a 5’5” frame, that’s probably about 50 to 70 pounds of excess.
I could try to blame it on the fact that my parents always wanted us to eat everything on the plate, which they would dish up for us on large plates. I could blame it on genetics. I could blame it on the strange fact that for a family that has issues with weight, there were always sweets and snacks around the house.
I would later discover that it had more to do with me believing in my own worth and taking steps to eat better because I deserve to feel better and be healthy.
In college, I worked part-time and lived with my parents. We didn’t have a lot of money and I paid for my education with the money I made at my part-time jobs. My parents essentially paid for boarding, since they’d been doing that the last 18 years. We lived close enough to the college that I could walk, instead of paying for a parking permit and then fighting for a parking space on campus.
This meant walking to and from school, which was about 40 minutes one way. Sometimes I had classes split between morning and afternoon, so I would go home in between. Consequently, I lost a lot of weight and got down to about 135 pounds. One of my close friends was worried enough about my weight loss that she checked in with me to see if I was anorexic.
During that time, I was pretty darn happy. I was going to college, learning new things, meeting new people, and I was skinny for the first time since puberty.
Then I graduated and got married. I was no longer walking to school and I was working full time. I ballooned back up to about 180 or 190. I didn’t use a scale, as I was honestly too afraid to know the truth. I just had an idea based on the size of clothing I wore.
After that my weight fluctuated quite a bit, going up and down at various times in my life. I never managed to get below 150 pounds. At one point I took a specific medication for my anxiety that basically made me manic, so I was eating all the time and lots and lots of chocolate.
Once I found a medication that worked better, and started working out, and going to therapy, my life really started to change for the better. I came to believe in myself, and how great I am for just being me. There will never be another me in this universe, and I bring my unique gifts to every situation.
By working out I learned how strong I could be. Some of these workouts include plyometrics, which are different jumping exercises for the most part. I remember one time when I went to hop up on the curb while out walking and thinking I feel so light. It’s a great feeling.
And the best part about all this is it had little to do with my weight. I still hover right around 150 pounds, but my body composition has changed. I have more muscle now and less fat.
I’m a unique person, despite the number on the scale. I can still play with my dogs, treat people with kindness, listen to friends vent, regardless of my weight.
I can also decide that my grandmother is a toxic person and have nothing to do with her anymore. I can decide that I am more important than what someone else thinks of me.
